The Epistle
by REIDFANATIC
Summary: Reid receives a letter from Lloyd Lowery that stirs up memories.


A/N: I do not own Criminal Minds or Breakout Kings

Reid pulled the forgotten envelope from his bag as he settled in for the flight back to Quantico. He had shoved it there three nights ago when he'd taken it from his mailbox, intending to read it later. But a case, as it usually did with most of the BAU's intentions, got in the way. He perused Lloyd's messy scrawl. He was a doctor, after all, Reid reminded himself as he ripped the envelope open to retrieve the missive inside.

_**Spencer,**_

_**I'm done!**_ It began abruptly.

_**After what happened last night, I don't know how I can go on with it. I suppose I should explain. It's Damien Fauntleroy, I told you about him and how he's been sending us these cryptic postcards. He even sent one to my mom. Although he's not our case, Ray wanted me to stay with it because of what the bastard did to Charlie. This last one led me to the library at NYU. I found the book he wanted me to find dealing with ancient Egyptian civilization, not that that has anything to do with this, but I digress. I knew it was the right one because I found a newspaper clipping about my arrest and that girl's death tucked inside.**_

Emily slid into the seat across from him, "A letter from your mom?" She raised one eyebrow.

"No… no, it's a letter from a friend, Lloyd Lowery. He's… he's, uh, a guest of the Maybelle Correctional Facility in New Jersey."

"Your friend is in prison." Emily leaned forward in her seat. "What did he do?"

"It's kind of a long story. Lloyd is… well, Lloyd is a lot like me. His IQ is actually higher than mine. He was an MD by the time he was twenty. He went into the field of psychiatry. That's how we met, at a human behavior seminar in Philadelphia. We hit it off and have been corresponding ever since," Reid told her.

"So, what got him an invitation to Maybelle?" Emily took a sip of her coffee.

"Lloyd was a professor at NYU and got arrested for writing illegal prescriptions to college students. It seems a girl with depression ODed and committed suicide with meds Lloyd had prescribed. The court found him responsible."

"Reid, he isn't where you got…?"

"Oh no Emily," Reid's eyes grew wide. "I never got anything from Lloyd."

"Is he an addict too?" Emily asked.

"Yes…" Reid put up his hand, "but not like you're thinking. Lloyd is addicted to gambling and that's why he started doing the drug thing, to pay off debts. Lloyd is the most nonviolent person in the world. He'd never hurt anyone." At Emily's look of suspicion he added, "Knowingly."

"Anyway," he carried on before Emily could reply. "He's working with two other inmates and the marshal's service to capture escaped prisoners."

"I read something about that," she said after swallowing more of her coffee. "They have a pretty good success rate if I recall correctly. I was surprised they didn't ask for our input on some of those."

"Why would they? They have Lloyd. He's as good a profiler as either of us. He got his degrees at Harvard and is an expert on human behavior analysis;" except when it comes to a beautiful girl named Julianne, Reid thought, but he was not about to mention Lloyd's love life, or lack thereof, to Emily. "He's also been widely published in the academic community," he added as he turned back to the letter.

_**When I got out of the library, Damien got me from behind, drugged me and the next thing I know I'm in some kind of warehouse strapped to a chair with handcuffs on.**_

Reid felt his body stiffen at the words.

_**He had a girl in a crate, bound and gagged and said we'd play poker and if I won, she'd live, if I lost, she'd die. It didn't matter; he killed her anyway and had set up a camera to film it. I couldn't do anything. I was helpless to save her. That's Damien, he likes to torture. **__**But now he's making it personal. It was bad enough when he killed Charlie; that was in an effort to escape; but now these postcards. I know now that he knows where my mom is. He could go after anyone we love. Erica's got a little girl that she's just counting the days until she can see again.**__** He likes to torture his victims and now he wants to torture me with these post cards, this abduction **__**and our fears for those we care about;**__** and all because I testified for the prosecution at his trial. **__**I really don't want to say much because I don't want Erica freaked out about her kid. **__**It's all to let me know that the one that got away will always haunt me.**_

Reid rested his head on the back of the seat, closing his eyes in an attempt to stave off a headache and the memories of Hankel, Foyet and Doyle that always lived far too close to the surface.

"Reid," Emily said when she saw his reaction. "Reid," she repeated. When he didn't answer, she reached to the table between them and swept up the letter, reading what Lloyd had written. _Yeah, we all know what it's like when an unsub_ _makes it personal._ She folded up the letter and put it back in the envelope_. Enough of that for now. _"Reid," she tried again and this time he opened his eyes. "I read what he wrote. I hope you don't mind but I wanted to know what was upsetting you."

"No, that's okay Emily."

"What will you say to him?" she gestured toward the envelope.

He looked into the deep brown eyes across from him and found the understanding that was somehow always there. He took a deep breath. "What can I say Emily? It's not like we all haven't been through this kind of thing. It's not like we haven't all thought of chucking it. I guess I just have to go back to the reasons I didn't. There's no equation in this. Genii are used to dealing with facts and figures to reach answers. But this, this is something only your heart can tell you is right. I guess Lloyd has to trust his heart."

Emily smiled broadly at her friend, "And I think I need to beat you at a game of gin my friend."

Reid grinned slightly, "That sounds good," he agreed, picking up the letter and putting it back in his bag.

"By the way, what does your friend look like?" Emily asked.

"Look like," Reid said as if she'd spoken in some foreign language.

"Yeah, what does he look like?"

"He's a few years older than me, a few inches shorter, fair hair… I don't know; I don't really notice that kind of thing about other guys Emily. Why?"

"Nothing particular, it just that when I read a letter I like to be able to picture the person," she said then shook her head as she stood to go get a deck of cards.

"And did it help you?" Reid asked.

"No, just made some things a little clearer."

"Such as what," Reid's left eyebrow rose.

"Well, he may be a lot like you, but," she ruffled his hair with one of her hands. "I prefer my geniuses tall, dark and handsome."


End file.
